


Completely Unexpected

by FallenInTheWetTypeWater



Category: NCIS, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Humor, Story within a Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-02-01 01:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21306719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenInTheWetTypeWater/pseuds/FallenInTheWetTypeWater
Summary: After being conned into helping Ducky sort out old archive files, the team come across a stack of photos which prompts the M.E. to regale a story about a filing clerk and a couple of spies.Brought over from FF.net. Originally Published: 02-24-10, Updated: 02-24-10
Kudos: 12





	Completely Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Ghost](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21306098) by [FallenInTheWetTypeWater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenInTheWetTypeWater/pseuds/FallenInTheWetTypeWater). 

> This is the longer NCIS crossover version of The Ghost. For the original, unchanged story set entirely in the 1960s Man From U.N.C.L.E. universe, please see the Man From U.N.C.L.E. section.

The first thing Ziva noticed when she entered autopsy was the folders. The tables normally reserved for cadavers were overflowing with folders all in different stages of organisation, categorising or just all out chaos with the majority of the contents spilling out onto the floor. Gibbs was sitting opposite Ducky, pushing folders from one unbalanced pile to the other in full 'paper-pushing' mode. Only Ducky could con Leroy Jethro Gibbs and his team into helping with paperwork. She moved quietly to the other side of the table and sat between McGee and Tony. Tony was discretely trying to play Tetris with his phone while pretending to pick up fallen papers. Palmer had incredibly managed to call in sick that morning.  
Gibbs was the first to break the sullen silence 'Why are we going through old files of god know what anyhow Duck?' Doctor Mallard didn't even glance up from the file he was currently pouring over. 'Because, my dear Jethro, there hasn't been a long enough break in active cases over the past couple of years to do so.' Sighing heavily he picked up the four inch thick folder and dumped it unceremoniously on the floor with a loud resounding thunk.  
'Duck?' Gibbs glanced at his colleague, 'Some of these look like personal files.'  
'I wouldn't be surprised.' Ducky slid off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. 'Considering how long these have been gathering dust in the archives.'  
Gibbs threw his coffee cup at the bin, missed and attacked another stack of files. Tony jumped as McGee dropped a folder on his leather clad foot.  
'Oi! Watch where you're dropping those things McClutz. How come Abby get's out of this?'  
McGee took careful aim and dropped a folder full of old court orders right on Tony's toe. 'She's doing charity work for the Nuns over at the abbey.'  
Tony scooped up the folder that had bounced off his right toe, flicking through until he found a wad of old photographs. Pointing to the oldest one on top he screwed his face up in concentration. 'Hey, don't we know this guy?'  
'What guy?' Ziva asked.  
Tony passed the stack to Ziva, purposely avoiding McGee's outstretched hand. 'He is rather cute. She is too.'  
The photo taken sometime during the sixties showed a young man, no more than thirty straddling a vintage motorbike and behind him a young woman laughing, her wavy hair, caught in a breeze, fanned out behind her as she cuddled her companion.  
McGee, peering over Ziva's shoulder, squinted, trying to mentally age the subjects. Unsuccessful, he passed the pictures to Gibbs.  
Gibbs held them at arm's length (having forgotten his glasses). 'It's Ducky.'  
'Huh?'  
'What?'  
'Oh...'  
'A hell of a long time ago but it's definitely you Duck. Unless you've got a twin brother we don't know about.' Gibbs passed them across the table.  
'You're right of course, Jethro. These must be at least thirty years old.'  
Gibbs circled the table and stood behind Ducky for a better view as he flicked through the aging shots one by one before passing them around the table to the eager agents.  
'So who's the chick.' The most important question in the mind of Anthony DiNozzo.  
'Her name was Julie Marzen. She was an incredible woman.' Ducky answered, still browsing through the pile. 'Her colleagues nicknamed her 'The Ghost Woman' and of all the people who could choose to reappear in the world of the living as a spectre, she would.'  
'What happened to her?'  
It was at this moment that Abby appeared, all smiles and energy, bearing Caf-Pow. Bounding over to the Doctor, she stooped to ogle at a glamour style photo over the M.E.'s shoulder. Her opinion was not going to go unvoiced. 'Hey, who's the hunk?'  
McGee valiantly tried to salvage the situation while Tony struggled with the impulse to laugh. 'Um, Abby – '  
'What?' Abby threw a hurtful questioning glance at him then back to the photo. 'He is he's hot.'  
'Uh, Abby, I'll think you'll find that's Ducky.'  
Abby took one last look at the photo. 'Wow. Hinky.' Was all she had to say after that.  
Tony lost his self control, erupting into laugher that was quickly stifled by a swift smack to the back of the head, courtesy of Gibbs.  
'Ow!'  
'I believe you were going to tell us a story, Ducky.' Ziva tactfully brought attention away from Abby's outburst.  
They all took their seats apart from Gibbs who hovered for a while longer. Ducky picked a photo randomly out of those remaining. 'It began a few decades ago during the Cold War when relations between countries were not at all...' He did not like what he saw. 'well.'  
Gibbs leaned in for one of his "all knowing" whispers, 'I'd hide that if I were you.'  
The Doctor quickly pocketed it.  
Abby was engrossed in yet another photo. The subject of this photo looked to be around fourty, although it was hard to tell, sporting a shoulder holster over his shirt surrounded by men and women all in suits and the same woman from the first photo. 'Hey Duckman, this guy looks like you too.'  
Tony snatched it out of her hand and in doing so earned himself another smack to the head.  
'Ah, that is, or rather was, Illya Kuryakin although it is with Julia where our story begins...'  
Approximately thirty years before…  
'Oi! Advertising! How much are we putting into NOT advertising?'  
'You spent two days on graphs? What have you been doing? Making them out of platinum?'  
'Hey! I found him painting banners for Section 8's party!'  
'I need that report done NOW!'  
'All in all the usual sounds of Section 10: one of the lowest sections within the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement's New York Office. The other sections nicknamed the place "Research, History and Useless Trivia" or RHUT for short. Of course they pronounced it without the 'H' so it sounded like rut.  
'There was really only one reason any work got done around there in the level full of slackers and clowns and that was Julie. She was the one no one really noticed – their gaze just sort of slid a foot or so to the left whenever she was around. Julie spent the majority of her time sitting in a corner with a pen in her mouth, notepad in hand and the quarterly reports sprawled around her. I cannot begin to tell you how many pen lids that woman chewed in half over the years. No one remembered her in any great detail (and in a building full of spies this was quite an achievement) unless they had a report due at nine and they only just remembered at half past ten the night before and even then they couldn't tell you Julie's hair colour. At one stage she thought of dying it pink…  
'But Julie didn't mind though – not really, I mean, who would want to get shot at for a living? Don't answer that. Anyway in her profession inbuilt perception filters came in handy. Like I said, it was the middle of the Cold War. Sometimes it even gave her a ticket up to Section One.  
'"Move over Invisible Man", they used to say, "Here comes 'The Ghost Woman'". Even Julie thought it sounded corny.  
'Anyway, there she was, Friday afternoon in her corner surrounded by an entire section's worth of paperwork and in the midst of a grand old argument with a calculator when the comm. system kicked in. Of course she was so used to it not being her it didn't register so it was back to how much they had spent on industrial strength staples.  
'Julie didn't think anymore of it until Jackson, their latest intern from "Section Non-existent" (they really didn't know where those interns came from or where they went) waved her back to reality.  
'Uh, Miss Marzen? It is Miss Marzen, isn't it?'   
'She nodded and went straight back to the cost of watch repairs. That's the thing with constantly keeping high explosives inside them – sometimes they just don't work afterwards.  
'Uh, Miss.' He continued. 'Mr. Waverly would like to see you in his office. That was the P.A. announcement.'  
'Julie nearly dropped her calculator at the mention of "Mr. Waverly", "you" and "office" in the same sentence.  
'Uh, when was this?' She spluttered, removing a half chewed pen from her teeth.  
'About ten minutes ago, Miss.'  
'Shiza!'  
'Hang on,' Tony interjected. 'She swears in German?'  
'She could swear in eight different languages, including Klingon. May I continue?'  
'Sorry…'  
'She swore, dropping everything as she rocketed to her feet. For possibly the first and last time practically the entire section stared right at her as she sprinted for the corridor, pushing people every-which-way in her haste.  
'Bypassing the lifts, bounding up the stairs, down the corridor, round the corner…  
'SLAM!  
'She ended up flat on the floor having run into a…  
'Tall…  
'Blond…  
'Blue eyed…  
'Black leather shoulder holster wearing…  
'Oh please.' This time it was McGee who broke the flow of the story. Gibbs just rolled his eyes and Ducky continued undeterred.  
'Section Two agent…  
Shiza.  
'I'm sorry sir.' Julie always mumbled when she felt like she had done something wrong, waiting for the inevitable typhoon she studied the floor just in front of his shiny shoes but the reprimand never came. Instead he stooped down and helped her to her feet.  
'Miss Marzen, I presume?'  
'His icy blue eyes softened and his low voice sounded… British? No, that wasn't quite it. There was something else underneath.  
'Yeah. Julie.' God his eyes were blue.  
'Illya Kuryakin.'  
'Not British – Russian! Julie had just run full force into Waverly's golden boy. Literally. And that meant…  
'Hey Illya.' A dark head popped around the ajar door to Section One, Number One's office. 'Have you found, oh – I see you have.' The stranger straightened himself and his tie before coming around to stand just off his partner's shoulder. He offered Julie his hand and turned his smile up a notch. She did let slip though, that she noticed it was not as brilliant as the one he reserved for his partner.  
'Napoleon Solo. And you are?'  
'Kuryakin answered before she had even opened her mouth. (Or closed it for that matter)  
'Napoleon this is Miss Julie Marzen of Section Ten. Miss Marzen this is Napoleon Solo. Napoleon I suggest you keep your distance – I hear she has one hell of a right hook.'  
'Julie blushed scarlet. It seemed the tale of her flooring the most arrogant, egotistical intern UNCLE ever had had travelled further up the metaphorical grape vine than anticipated. According to her the bastard had it coming anyway and it certainly explained why their current interns were little more than jittering flibitigibits.  
'Coming Partner Mine? The Old Man's waiting.' Solo gestured back to the solid door, behind which resided the formidable head of UNCLE.  
'She mentally prepared herself using the calm before the storm that was bound to come while steering herself for an absolute ear bashing. Why else would she be flanked by two side arm wearing Section Two's?  
'Waverly always had a kind of unnerving presence about him. He raised his steely gaze from the folder before him and Julie gulped involuntarily. It looked like hers. It was certainly thin enough to be. Then he did something quite unexpected – he smiled.  
'Ah, Miss Marzen. Please sit down. Would you care for a biscuit?'  
'Tea or coffee?' Solo asked from a side board and Kuryakin appeared off her left elbow bearing a tray filled with a large assortment of snacks.  
'"An assortment of snacks?"' Tony was rather skeptical.  
'Well, like I said, it was completely unexpected.'


End file.
